


The Way That You Love Me

by Soapbubblesoul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate World, Belonging, Bonds, M/M, Magic, Marking, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Rituals, Spiritual, Supernatural Bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 02:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14203152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soapbubblesoul/pseuds/Soapbubblesoul
Summary: Yixing was the last one of his tribe to be with a shadowdancer. And he was the last one who knew the truth. The truth that all the rumours and hushed whispers were wrong.





	The Way That You Love Me

The world outside the window pane was black, an impervious curtain of darkness that cut Yixing off from the reality that existed outside this room. Reverently, he let his eyes drag over the shape of his own naked body reflected back at him, taking in all the red and purple marks that ran from his shins up to his jaw. He adored them, every single one of them. But his attention settled on a particular set, located at the height of his hip. The marks were shaped like fingerprints, ones that didn‘t belong to Yixing. And he loved the sight, the dark spots against his pale skin. In a place where sun rarely touched, shadows had left their mark now.

Yixing could almost feel Yifan's fingers, fitting exactly over the purplish blue whenever he held Yixing's hips. Yixing‘s own hand came up to press against the marks, but his gaze never left his reflection in the window. When another, bigger hand reached out from the shadows behind him to lay itself over Yixing's, Yixing didn't flinch. Instead, he leant back against the torso that was encasing him and tilted his head to the side to allow for the mouth that pressed against his neck. A shiver ran through his body, and a near inaudible sigh escaped him. 

"Come back to bed."

The low, usually smooth voice, was slightly raspy around the edges. 

Yixing forewent a response in favour of changing the order of their hands, so Yifan's hand was directly on the skin of his torso. It was such a satisfying sight, and Yixing felt the reverent smile that tugged the corners of his lips apart but he couldn't see it because his gaze stayed transfixed on his waist. 

"They're spreading," he whispered, still full of wonder even though he was well acquainted with the sight by now.  

Yifan left a trail of lazy kisses along Yixing's neck, all the way up to his jaw, before nosing along Yixing's cheek. He had his eyes closed, and even though his expression was calm, Yixing knew Yifan had never stopped struggling. More than two years had passed already since the first mark had settled on Yixing‘s skin,  _ in  _ Yixing‘s skin. Yixing wished there was some way for him to ease Yifan's guilt. It was unfounded, Yixing was well aware of everything that was going on, and he  _ wanted _ it. He couldn't remember ever wanting something as badly as being with Yifan, and wearing his mark was part of that. 

"They're past your spine now." Yifan brushed his hand against Yixing's tailbone, then traced his spine up until he reached the height of the band of marks wrapping around Yixing's waist. 

His touch moved to the right, slowly, but eventually he stilled. Yifan's eyes remained closed, but Yixing knew Yifan didn't have to see, he could feel. The place where his fingers had stopped was where the marks ended. 

"They're getting close to my hip," Yixing noted, as softly as he could, in the hope that somehow it would help appease Yifan. 

He was answered by a nod, and a wet kiss pressed to his nape. 

"Come back to bed," Yifan repeated. 

It was evident that Yifan wished to change the topic, and Yixing allowed him. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from his own reflection, just so he could twist in Yifan's hold. He pressed his lips to Yifan's chest, his collarbones, then his neck. He savoured how he could feel the flow of Yifan's breaths in the heaving and sinking of Yifan‘s chest against his own. Eventually, his lips hovered over Yifan's. For a few heartbeats, they shared the same oxygen but neither allowed their mouths to actually meet.

Then, Yixing leaned in, and finally let himself taste the addictive, intense tang that was all Yifan. 

 

-☊-  

 

The village laid quietly before Yixing as he walked down the main street. Fog was wafting around him, adding an eeriness to the scenery together with the faint blue light that always accompanied the time right before sunrise. It was too early for most villagers to be awake yet, but Yixing knew that he would find light behind the windows of his destination.  

He hadn't been to the elders' place in a while, the sheep back at the farm requiring all his attention over the last few weeks. But now that the farmer had returned, Yixing was relieved of some of his duties. So he had packed a small satchel full with dried lamb meat, some cheese and milk to share with the elders, and trekked down the hill into the village.  

The elders' hut always smelled like old wood and a faint hint of cold smoke from the fire that burned in the fire place to keep the building at a constant temperature. When Yixing stepped through the door after knocking, he was immediately surrounded by warmth, and the scents that were all linked to his earliest childhood memories. It was a comforting familiarity.

He bowed in greeting, respectfully as was custom, and only straightened his back again when he had mentally counted to ten. Three of the five village elders were present in the main room, sitting on armchairs and sofas, and smiling at him with their eyes full of tenderness. There was, however, a hint of sadness to them that made Yixing's chest sting with guilt. They might have been unseeing, but they knew. They knew of the marks around his waist, they could feel them the same way Yifan could. 

Sometimes, Yixing couldn't help but wonder how unfair it was, that the only people who could feel them were those who disapproved of them, when he, who could never stop marvelling at them, could not sense them. 

But he swallowed his guilt, and the faint hint of jealousy, and put on a smile instead as he apologised for not having come to visit in so long. He went to every elder, kissed their hand and led it to his forehead before moving to the next, and only when he had personally paid his respect to all of them did he start unpacking the offerings from his bag. 

He explained what he had brought them, narrating every single one of his moves as he had been taught. It wasn't that he was afraid of the elders, or felt pressured by the ritualised procedure like some of the other villagers. He had spent enough time in this house to feel nothing but benevolence from the elders. For Yixing, their love for every single of the villagers was palpable, and it brought comfort the same way it stung when Yixing thought about disappointing them.  

As Yixing prepared food for them, he talked about how things were up at the farm, how the sheep were doing and that the farmer had returned from his travels in good health. It was the usual report, about the weather and the harvest they were expecting their crops to yield, and that out of the eight lambs that had been born, seven were growing up well and only one needed special attention. Talking about work was a lot easier than talking about his personal life, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to escape the topic entirely. Yet that didn't mean he couldn't try. 

While he was talking and slowly stirring the stew, the other two elder had also come out from the back rooms, clearly sensing Yixing's presence. They had settled in armchairs in the main room as well, so when Yixing returned from the kitchen area, he found all five elders in their respective seats. They were arranged to form a circle, and once every elder held a steaming bowl in their hand, Yixing sat down on the cushion in the middle of the room. He folded his legs underneath his body so that he was sitting on his feet, then straightened his back and curled his fingers into fists before placing them on his thighs. It was the posture he had practiced carefully over many years, but he hadn't assumed it in so long that his feet and shins were screaming in protest at the stretch. Yixing skilfully ignored them. 

He lowered his head, and while the elders were starting their meal, he closed his eyes and began his meditation. The sutras flowed from his lips in a constant string of muted sounds, the words ingrained in his brain from young age. It wasn't his first cleansing while bearing Yifan's marks, far from it, but every single time he feared anew they would itch, ache, burn.  

They never did, however.  

And how wrong could they be, then? If the cleansing never rid him of them, never even punished him for the foreign energy he was allowing beneath his skin, to seep into his bloodstream. How could Yifan‘s marks be bad?

Yixing hadn't even realised how much his body had been craving the cleansing, but now that he was in the elders' hut for the first time in months, it was obvious. When he eventually let his vocal chords fall silent and lifted his head again, he felt as if the air was flowing easier through his lungs. The elder his gaze fell on nodded to express their satisfaction with Yixing. It made pride swell in his chest, when there was no real reason for it to exist except for the approval of the elders. Something Yixing had decided he didn't want to crave no longer, but it was almost as if it was embedded in his very cells. 

After rising from the pillow, Yixing collected all the empty bowls, and retreated back to the kitchen area to do the dishes. By the time he was ready to leave, the sun had long since risen in the sky and he could hear the bustling on the streets outside the house of the villagers tending to their daily business. 

"Be careful, Yixing." The elder's voice was silent and scratchy from disuse, so thin that if it had been a sheet of paper, it would have been see-through.  

Yixing wanted to take a deep breath, to steel himself for what he had known was unavoidable. They had his best interest in mind, he reminded himself over and over as one elder after another voiced their concerns. They cautioned him against Yifan, warned him that he would fall under Yifan's complete control, that Yifan would turn him into nothing but a mindless puppet. 

Yixing ground his teeth, but nodded obediently, and thanked them for their wisdom and guidance. He swallowed down all the protests burning on the tip of his tongue, refrained from talking back. All his attempts to defend Yifan had been fruitless so far. Eventually, he had simply given up to even try. Instead he smiled, devoutly, bowed and took his leave. 

And it wasn't only the elders. As Yixing was walking back up to the farm, he nodded in greeting to everyone he passed, but in silence he could only think about what they had said about him being with Yifan, right to his face or behind his back. 

The elders might have been the spiritual guidance of the village, but everyone, from farmer to tailor to baker, had their very own theory about what would happen when the band around Yixing's waist closed. The only thing they were concordant about was that it would be something bad. Bad and irrevocable. 

While the elders all claimed the band would put him under Yifan's spell, Yixing had heard dozens of hushed whispers that he would die. As if the marks were a poison, and that as soon as they had wrapped fully around his body, they would seize hold of his heart and still its beats. 

At one point, a few months back, a close family friend had sat him down. She was an elderly lady, but the traces of her former beauty still shone through her lined features. Yixing remembered how he had played with her daughter, before she had been promised to a man two villages over, and had moved to his family.

He knew that the elderly woman cared for him, deeply so, but the moment she started talking, Yixing felt his defences immediately go up without him being able to do anything about it. She told him how she only wanted what was best for him, and that he had had it hard in life, but he should think about his parents. Would they have wanted this for him? Would they have been okay with him being with a shadowdancer? 

Honouring and respecting one's family was important, and Yixing knew that as much as the elderly lady did. But Yixing simply couldn't have cared less about what his parents thought. Or would have thought. He hadn't even been two years old yet when his parents moved on with his father's tribe, leaving him with his maternal grandparents. His grandfather had passed away five years ago, his grandmother following not even half a year later. His family was gone. There were no obligations for Yixing to justify his actions to anyone. 

But Yixing was grateful to the elderly lady, for everything she had done for him, both when his parents had left him behind and when his grandparents got so old Yixing had to care for them and not the other way around. So he stayed put, casted his eyes down in a sign of respect and nodded along as she talked. 

Yixing knew that he wasn't the first one to be with a shadowdancer. In olden days, it had been common throughout the village. Never everyone, rarely more than a handful of people at once, but no one had batted an eyelash at seeing fingerprint-like marks wrapping around bare torsos. The books had all been burned, however, and only vague mentions of these times had survived. Over the years, decades, it had become the fodder for rumours and folk tales, which eventually had turned into horror stories instead. 

_ They will eat your soul. _

_ They will use you. _

_ They will control you. _

_ They will kill you. _

If it had been true, what they said, and Yifan's mark would have killed him, Yixing probably would still have accepted that as the price he had to pay for being with Yifan.  

But he was the last one of his tribe to be with a shadowdancer. And he was the last one who knew the truth. 

The truth that they were all wrong. 

 

-☊- 

 

Yifan's eyes were green, flashing up whenever a particularly strong bout of emotions traveled through him, and his dark violet hair was always wavering above his head, as if it was constantly caught in a gentle breeze that affected nothing else. Yixing loved threading his fingers through Yifan's hair, but he could never properly grasp what it felt like. It was silky, soft, but at the same time it was almost as if it wasn't really there. 

Right then, Yifan's eyes were glowing brightly, and no matter how difficult Yixing found it to keep his own eyes open, he refused to miss even one second of Yifan's intense gaze.  

His breath caught in his lungs as a particularly powerful thrust of Yifan's made him hit  _ just _ the right spot, and left Yixing gasping for air as he was pushed up higher on the bed. It squeaked beneath them, and Yixing would have been worried about it breaking but it had withstood worse. Also, Yixing really didn't have the mind to worry about the stability of the wooden structure. 

All he cared about was Yifan, on him,  _ in  _ him, surrounding him. Yifan's hands were roaming Yixing's body but while Yifan‘s hips never ceased their movement, he also didn't let Yixing find release. Yifan‘s fingers traced every inch of Yixing's torso, as if to map it in his mind, and link every spot to what reaction it drew from Yixing. Yifan was thorough, and relentless. There was something attentive in his gaze, way too put together for Yixing's liking. 

He himself was in an utter state of disarray but Yifan seemed all too composed. 

Yifan's stern expression could have been misinterpreted as disinterest in their union, but his eyes gave him away. If Yifan had been human, his brow would have been matted with sweat from the effort it took him to stay so in control. It was something Yixing admired, Yifan's grip on himself, but at the same time he always saw it as a challenge. To make Yifan lose it and simply indulge in the pleasure. And Yixing knew exactly how to get what he wanted. 

He stroked up Yifan's bare torso, then he leaned up so he could hook his arms around Yifan's back and drag him down until they were chest to chest. The change in position made him wince as it put more strain on his hips, and he allowed Yifan to shift them until he had positioned Yixing's legs so the stretch would be bearable. When Yifan resumed his thrusts, Yixing used their new proximity to suck at Yifan's neck. He was rewarded with a stutter of Yifan's hips, and a husky moan right next to his ear. Internally, Yixing was preening, because he knew he was almost there. 

He reciprocated with a moan, to spur Yifan on. Then, he arched his back to bring himself even closer to Yifan and his hands moved to Yifan's waist. He grabbed Yifan's hips with all his strength, tight enough that he was hoping his fingers would leave bruises on Yifan's skin.

This time, it was Yifan who gasped for air. Yixing barely had time to bathe in his triumph before he threw his head back, a keen ripping from his throat as a new vigour was added to Yifan's thrusts. Even as Yixing swore his vision was going blurry from pleasure, he didn't relinquish his hold on Yifan‘s hips.  

He held on, until he felt his orgasm rush through him, hot and strong and untameable.  

He didn't let go, until Yifan followed him over the edge just a few thrusts later. As he felt Yifan's cum spurt into him, a new wave of pleasure rushed over him, an entirely different high to the one he hadn't even fully recovered from yet. His body trembled as the well-known sensation set in, and Yixing welcomed it with a weak moan.  

The new mark on his hip burned white-hot, but only for a split-second, then there was nothing left but a soft tingling and the utter euphoria coursing through Yixing. Whenever the band moved a bit closer to completion, it left Yixing reeling for long after they had both reached their climax. He knew it had a similar effect on Yifan, every fibre of his being jubilating at completing one more step of their bond. Physically, Yifan was riding the same high as Yixing, but he never allowed himself to embrace it. 

For Yifan, the guilt ran deeper. 

After they had cleaned up, they laid in bed, huddled together with Yifan's arm thrown over Yixing's hip. His fingers were tracing the marks, but the action seemed almost unconscious, as if he was automatically drawn to them. 

The band had been moving faster as of lately, almost as if it was sensing Yixing's impatience. Yifan, however, was reluctant. 

"You will lose your world." 

„But I won‘t lose myself. I‘ll still be me.“ Yixing whispered, and splayed his hand against Yifan‘s cheek. „And I‘ll be with you.“

 

-☊- 

 

There weren't many people Yixing trusted with the truth. He had given up trying to challenge people's beliefs, since none of them would ever listen.  

But Lu Han was different.  

Small and slender, Lu Han had never been tasked with working the field, or tending to livestock. His family knew he would have been strong enough for it, but he would fetch a higher price if he was kept pale and delicate. He would come off smarter like that, purer. Untainted by the sun. So instead, he was working the loom, and took care of the family bakery's finances.  

Primed to be given to another tribe for marriage, Lu Han never really interacted much with other villagers. Yixing had asked him once if it was because he was bitter and this was his way of expressing protest, but Lu Han had shaken his head.  

"What's the point in mingling with them, when I won't be here for long either way? I will spend most of my life with my bride's tribe, so it makes more sense to form connections with people there. Having deep ties here will just make it more difficult to leave." 

It was clear that their friendship was no exception, and Yixing could have felt upset or hurt that Lu Han viewed what they had as superficial, but Yixing didn't really mind. He enjoyed Lu Han's company, and was grateful for how non-judgemental he was. He also was aware that they were only using each other for company. They both needed someone to confide in. Even if, or perhaps especially because, there was an expiration date to both their time in the village. Lu Han had known since birth that he would leave sooner rather than later, but for Yixing it had always been nothing but a feeling that he was not going to grow old in the same place where he had been born. Only since he met Yifan, he knew for sure. 

 

-☊-

 

A brisk wind was sweeping across the cliffs that day, but Yixing didn't feel the cold much. Briefly he wondered if that might have been an effect of Yifan's marks, but then he reminded himself that he had always been rather unaffected by low temperatures. 

He had chosen this place to meet up with Lu Han because it was close enough to the village to be in walking distance but far enough that there rarely were any villagers passing by. It also was the place where Yixing had first met Yifan, and he reasoned it was a fitting spot to let Lu Han in on what would happen to him once Yifan's marks completed the band around his waist. 

"How do you know?" Lu Han asked silently once Yixing was done speaking, gaze directed at the open sea and not at Yixing as he took a sip from the bowl of broth that was warming his hands. 

"He told me."

Yixing‘s own attention was focused on the waves crashing against the shore as well.  

"What if he's lying to you?" 

One of the things Yixing valued most about Lu Han was how calm he always was. There was no accusatory undertone in his words, there was nothing to indicate he thought Yixing was being naive or stupid. It was just a neutral question because that was indeed a possibility, and Yixing was well aware of it. 

It was a loaded question, but Yixing had long since figured out his answer to it. 

"Even if he were, I wouldn't mind. I don't want to give him up," Yixing divulged, before adding with conviction. "But he's not. I trust him." 

 

-☊- 

 

Their first meeting lay three years in the past already, but Yixing could still recall it as if it had been just the other day.  

It had been evening, twilight. Of course it had been. Shadowdancers thrived in the twilight. At first Yixing had only seen Yifan‘s eyes, shining from the distance. There had been a longing in them that Yixing felt oddly familiar with, even though he couldn‘t properly place the notion. Shadowdancers sensed loneliness, and standing there, on the edge of the cliff, with the wind tugging at his clothes and hair with angry fingers, Yixing had felt as if he was the only person that existed in the whole wide world, just by himself. 

More than a year had passed since his grandparents‘ death, but time hadn‘t kept its promise. The loss had still sat beneath his skin, like a festering and aching wound. The pain might have dulled down, but it had never left. The cliff had always been Yixing‘s sanctuary, because while he was surrounded by the crashing waves and howling wind, Yixing could pretend to become one with the harsh nature and lose himself through it. 

Yifan had emerged from the shadows, his vague silhouette taking on more and more shape the closer he came to Yixing. For all his otherworldliness, Yifan had been the most beautiful sight Yixing had ever beheld. In the light of the setting sun, Yifan‘s eyes had shown emerald, his ever-moving violet hair dancing softly in defiance of the elements.

Yixing had heard tales of shadowdancers, about how they lured in unsuspecting victims, always catching them in their weakest moments. 

_ So this is it for me _ . 

Yet, the only thing Yixing had felt when he first laid eyes on Yifan wasn‘t fear; it was a deep, profound sense of comfort. It had settled in his chest and as Yifan had come to a halt just an arm‘s length in front of him, Yixing had felt it spread all throughout his body. 

Yifan‘s gaze had held an unmistakeable compassion, as if he felt Yixing‘s sadness as his own, and in that moment Yixing had known. Long before Yifan ever actually told him about true nature of shadowdancers, Yixing had been able to read it in Yifan‘s eyes as he approached Yixing. 

The stories said that shadowdancers subsisted on people‘s loneliness, that they feasted on and exploited it to gain mindless servants. But that wasn‘t true, and Yixing felt that as clear as day when Yifan lifted his hand to splay it against Yixing‘s cheek. 

„I have waited so long to talk to you.“ The shadowdancer‘s voice had been somber and deep, and Yixing had felt it reverberate inside his chest. „I couldn‘t hold myself back any longer.“ 

Yixing had nuzzled into the touch, his body moving as if on instinct. He had held Yifan‘s gaze the entire time, his breath locked in his chest as time had seemed to slow down and come to a halt. 

He hadn‘t been able to tell how much time had passed, but something had transpired between them. Even with no words spoken, Yixing had known they understood each other. 

No, shadowdancers didn‘t exploit loneliness. They were drawn to it, because it was their purpose to alleviate it.

Even if their prolonged comfort came at the price of giving up everything else one knew. 

 

-☊- 

 

In the throes of passion, Yixing's mind always turned hazy. All his thoughts fled his head, nothing remaining except for Yifan,  _ Yifan, Yifan _ .  

This time, however, he was unusually conscious, even as Yifan was drilling into him, hitting all the right spots and leaving Yixing's throat feeling raw from his panting and moaning. Because tonight was the night. The final night. 

For three years already, Yixing had been with Yifan. For three years already, Yixing had loved Yifan, and Yifan had loved him. 

Yixing wore the proof on his body. The band that wound around his hips was the mark of Yifan‘s love, something his kind couldn‘t contain. When shadowdancers loved, it seeped from their fingertips, and under their lover‘s skin. It was a bond to bind them together for eternity, and Yixing  _ was so ready for it _ .  

There were no more villagers left who knew the truth, because all those that had been with a shadowdancer weren't able to tell their stories anymore. They couldn't defend their lovers and righten the wrong picture everyone had in their head.  

Because when the band closed, it didn't mean death. It meant rebirth. 

When it closed, it didn't mean being under control. It meant being  _ in _ control.

When a shadowdancer‘s mark wrapped in a complete band around someone‘s waist, it meant they belonged to that person. 

Yifan grunted, and his thrusts became increasingly irregular, and Yixing knew they were both close, so incredibly close.  

They had talked everything through, lengthily and in detail. As eager as Yixing was, he couldn‘t allow there to be even an ounce of regret in Yifan. There had been a vague fear that Yifan didn‘t want their bond to complete because of what it meant for  _ him  _ and not for Yixing, but Yifan had simply looked at Yixing as if he was crazy for even briefly considering the possibility. 

_ There‘s nothing I want more than to be yours. _

And Yixing wanted nothing more than to be with Yifan, no matter the price he would have to pay for it. And now it was finally within tangible reach. 

Yixing felt the energy build up between them, ready to burst. With a drawn-out moan, he welcomed it. It was more than just their orgasms approaching, it was a culminating pleasure that was laced with a power Yixing had never felt before. He was drunk on the feeling, helplessly chanting Yifan‘s name like a prayer, as if it was the only thing keeping him together.  

Yifan was much the same, his breathing harsh and irregular as his hips kept crashing against Yixing‘s backside with more force than ever before. Yixing was sure Yifan was reaching spots he had never reached before, and his body arched off the bed with a broken scream. 

„I love you,“ Yifan whispered, and let his lips ghost over Yixing‘s neck before moving to steal a kiss. 

Then, with a last thrust, he stole the air from Yixing‘s lungs as he came within him. Gasping, Yixing felt his own orgasm wash over him, together with a wave of energy that made him gasp, and shake. He worried about losing consciousness for a second, but Yifan‘s hold grounded him. 

Yifan kept moving, helping both of them ride their high as the last mark appeared on Yixing‘s hip, glowing the same green as Yifan‘s eyes. Yixing didn‘t know what to anticipate once the band completed, and even Yifan wasn‘t able to tell him details. He knew no shadowdancer anymore who was in love with a human. 

So Yixing was mildly unprepared for the energy that was seeping into him through their connection, but knowing that Yifan was there with him gave him strength. The energy concentrated in the band, before spreading through his whole body. 

In awe, Yixing watched the colour seep from the world around him, everything falling into a shade of black and white. 

Everything, except for Yifan.  

The emotions burning in Yifan‘s green eyes were so intense they nearly overwhelmed Yixing. His climax and the transformation had left him shaking, but he still managed to lift his arm to card his fingers through Yifan‘s dark violet hair. The softness of it hadn‘t changed, and a slow smile spread on Yixing‘s lips. 

„You‘re beautiful,“ he whispered, and splayed his hand against Yifan‘s cheek in a mirror of their first meeting. 

Yifan‘s gaze softened, then he turned his head slightly to press a kiss to Yixing‘s palm, his own fingers ghosting over the band of marks around Yixing‘s waist. 

„Welcome to my world. I am yours."

  
  



End file.
